


Papaoutai

by Pixelfun20



Series: Captainball! [6]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Basically the "Tony has a Kid Pre-IM1" Trope, But I Have My Own Take On It, But he's trying, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Iron Man 3, Pre-Relationship, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Not a Good Dad, no beta we die like men, title may change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23210341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelfun20/pseuds/Pixelfun20
Summary: In the aftermath of his fight against the Mandarin, the memory of his encounter with Harley has Tony Stark returning to California to try and rectify one of his many mistakes.Meanwhile, Rebecca Mohren gets the chance to meet her biological father when he shows up, unannounced, on her doorstep. She isn't impressed.Rebecca is an regular middle school girl, with average grades and a passion for the arts. Tony is a billionaire playboy philanthropist who plays superhero on the side. Somehow, they find a way to make things work.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (mentioned), Tony Stark & Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark/Original Female Character(s) - Past
Series: Captainball! [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1443709
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Papaoutai

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Has half a dozen WIPs.  
> Also Me: Starts a short story.
> 
> Sorry not sorry. My muse strikes in the oddest of ways.

“Becca! Becca! You gotta look outside! There’s a _limousine_!”

Fourteen-year-old Rebecca Mohren looked up from her algebra homework, looking to where her younger eight-year-old brother, Joseph, was bouncing by the front window. He’d pulled the blinds up their front window to better see what was, indeed, a limousine parked on the curb where they lived, right in front of their house.   
Rebecca stood up to get a better look at it as Joseph breathed out “ _so cool_ ” under his breath. Sure, their neighborhood in Walnut Creek, California, was affluent and middle class, but no one had enough money to own a limousine like that, except maybe on special occasions, like when Rebecca’s aunt, Michelle, had gotten married. Seeing one here, right in front of her house, was practically unheard of.

“What’s going on?” Caroline asked, walking into the room with the family Ipad tucked under one arm. The youngest of the three Mohren siblings, at seven, she was also the only one in her family to have blond hair, falling around her face in curls. Rebecca shrugged, shading her eyes to try and get a peek at who was inside, but the windows were tinted so black she couldn’t see a thing.

“I think there’s a guy in there,” Joseph whispered, even though there was no need to do so.

“ _Duh_ ,” Rebecca shot back at him as Caroline hopped up on the couch, craning her neck to get a better peek at the limo. “Who do ya think’s driving it? A dog?”

“Shut up, Becca.”

“Don’t be stupid, then.”

“I’m gonna tell Mom you called me stupid!”

“She won’t be home for another two hours! And I have the only phone!”

“Guys!” Caroline pointed at the window, stopping the siblings’ argument. “Look!”

The back door of the limousine opened, and the three children watched as a man got out of the seat. He was wearing some sort of band shirt with ‘ _BLACK SABBATH_ ’ written on the top in large letters, with an unzipped jacket and on-brand jeans. His whole self just screamed intimidating wealth, and it didn’t help when he looked right at them.

Caroline and Joseph shrieked at being caught staring and ducked under the windowsill, where they’d be out of sight. Rebecca found herself staring back at the man in shock, identifying him almost immediately. How could she not? She’d searched for news of him through the media almost religiously when she was little, and all of a sudden, she was six again, looking through the T.V. screen to watch news about Tony Stark’s latest invention.

“Becca! _Becca_!” It took Caroline tugging on her shirt for the girl to snap out of her shock and snap the blinds shut, cutting each of them off from the other.

“That’s _Tony Stark_ ,” Joseph whispered, blue eyes wide. “My teacher was teaching me about him last week!”

“Really?!” Caroline exclaimed. Joseph rolled his eyes in a ‘ _duh_ ’ motion and shushed her. Rebecca sat down on the couch, a cold feeling of dread filling in the pit of her stomach.

Tony Stark was on her lawn. _Tony Stark_ was on her _lawn_ and her parents were at _work_. 

“Why’s he here?” Joseph asked. “Doesn’t he live, like, in southern California?”

“Yeah,” Rebecca said airily. “He lives in Malibu.”

“But why is he _here_?”

“I don’t know!” Well, on one level, she knew why. But her mom had made her keep that a secret and knowing it just brought up a bucketload of new questions which she definitely couldn’t answer. She didn’t know how to feel. Part of her was terrified, another part angry, and yet another part elated at the fact that she’d _finally_ been noticed.

There was a knock at the front door. Caroline squeaked and Joseph shot up to answer it, but Rebecca caught him by the arm and forced him back on the couch.

“Becca!” Her brother protested, stars practically shining in his eyes. “That’s Tony _Stark_ at our door! We gotta open it! Oh, what if he brought the Iron Man suit? Think he’d let me touch it?”

“Mom says we’re not allowed to answer the door when she and Dad aren’t home,” Caroline reminded him. Joseph stared back at her incredulously.

“This is?? Tony Stark??” He flapped his arms in the door’s direction. Rebecca bit her lip. It _would_ be rude to leave him out there.

“Fine.” She muttered, fishing in her pocket and pulling out her cell phone. “But only me. You go call Mom, Joseph. Go up to your room and stay there.”

“ _What_?!”

Rebecca fixed her brother with her firmest glare, and he finally gave in as Stark knocked again. Grumbling, he took Caroline’s hand and left the room, stomping upstairs.

Well, now she _had_ to answer it. Hands shaking, Rebecca went to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

“Hello,” she said ( _hello?! Yes, say hello to Tony Stark, of all things!)_ , looking up at Tony Stark. Despite the confidence and suaveness she was accustomed to seeing when he was on T.V., Stark seemed a little uncomfortable, some emotion Rebecca couldn’t catch flitting across his eyes as he looked down at her.

Those eyes, which were so much like her own.

“Hey, are you Rebecca?” And _ouch_ , that hurt. Like, it was a totally reasonable thing to say, but the fact that Tony Stark was the one saying it didn’t really sit well with her. “Is your mother home?”

“Yes, and no,” Rebecca said quietly, and the situation just seemed all the more awkward.

“Wow, this is _not_ going how I thought it would,” Stark muttered, scratching his head. Rebecca shrugged. 

“To be fair, this wasn’t what I expected, either,” she shot back, despite herself. “Uh, do you want to come in? I think that’s what I should say.”

Stark shrugged, and Rebecca stepped aside, letting him come into her house. Wow. If this wasn’t surreal, she didn’t know what was. For the last two years she’d convinced herself that she was Joseph and Caroline’s full sibling, her dad’s biological daughter. Yet here was reality, sitting in front of her with a man who had her eyes, and she didn’t really know what to think.

“Why are you here?” She finally decided to just cut to the chase, sitting down on the sofa. Stark took her dad’s armchair, opposite her. “I mean, I was pretty sure you didn’t want the world to know I existed, and now you’ve shown up at my house.”

Stark winced at that.

“Yeah, uh…” he trailed off, then crossed his hands, staring intently at the wall. “Look, I’m not good with kids so you’re gonna have to forgive me for how I word this. But I’ve had a lot of self-reflection done lately. Thought I ought to at least meet you.”

Oh. He was here out of some sort of obligation. Rebecca sighed, disappointment and frustration rising, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother could have told her that.

“Well, hello, nice to meet you,” she said dryly. “I’m Rebecca Mohren, your fourteen-year-old illegitimate daughter who you’ve done nothing for except pay a crap ton of child support to make sure that my existence doesn’t go public. There. Anything else?”

Well, at least he had the decency to wince. Rebecca leaned back in her seat, and continued. 

“I used to idolize you, you know,” she said quietly, not really sure why she was divulging so much to him. Maybe because he was her father and ought to know, maybe because she wanted him to hurt like she had, to feel her absence as keenly as she his. “Mom never hid who you were to me. I used to go through magazines and websites and T.V. shows for signs of you. One time, when I was four, she took me to this meet-and-greet you were having and I got a glimpse of you in person. Probably the highlight of my year.” She laughed shortly and tried to ignore how much the memories hurt. “Kind of sad, isn’t it?”

“To be fair, I wasn’t—am not—father material,” Stark said, clasping his hands together. “I guess I wanted to protect you and me. I didn’t want to take responsibility for my actions. That’s why I’m here; where is Sophia, anyways?”

He was deflecting, and that was another point down in Rebecca’s eyes, but she answered him anyways.

“She’s at work.”

“Mom said she’ll be home in ten minutes!”

Rebecca shot up at her brother’s voice, head whipping to catch where he was standing at the foot of the stairs. That little brat, not staying in his room! How much had he heard? Joseph wilted a little under her gaze, but his attention was all on Stark.

“I’ve learned about you in school!” He exclaimed, hopping in place. “You’re Iron Man! Why are you here?”

Stark glanced at her, and Rebecca resisted the urge to wilt to the ground. 

“Joseph,” she nearly hissed through gritted teeth. “Upstairs. Now. Or I am going to kill you, _so help me God._ ”

That had the kid scrambling back up the stairs again. Stark whistled lowly as Rebecca willed herself to die of embarrassment. Well, at least Mom was coming home early. This sort of situation kind of warranted it. 

“You have spunk, kid. I like that,” Stark said, looking back at her. “Sophia got married, I suppose?”

“Yeah, when I was five. That was Joseph; he’s my half-brother, but he and his sister don’t know that you’re my dad. Don’t tell them.” Great. If he didn’t know who her siblings were, he obviously hadn’t taken the time to catch up with her. This meeting was just going _wonderfully._

“Secret’s safe with me.”

They fell into a short, awkward silence after that. Rebecca shifted in her seat, not sure what else to say.

“So,” Stark began, quite clearly trying to disperse the awkwardness and dreadfully failing. “What have you been up to? You’re in eighth grade now, right?”

“Yeah,” Rebecca shrugged, not sure what she was supposed to say. “Um, I’m pretty normal, you know. Nothing much to talk about. I’m in advanced math, but that’s about it.”

“Any sports? Clubs?”

Rebecca struggled to hide the blush that was coloring her cheeks, and looked away to try and hide it. Why did Stark care? She wasn’t special, not in any way that mattered, anyways. It took her a few moments to remember that she was supposed to answer the question.

“I’m in Colorguard.”

“That’s… the flag waving, right? You perform with the marching band?”

“It’s more complicated than that!” Rebecca snapped despite herself, cheeks flaming. Stark held up a placating hand.

“Alright. I bet Colorguard is pretty cool if you’re in it. How has your mother been doing? And who did she marry?”

“She’s a high school teacher now,” Rebecca replied, caught off guard once again. This conversation was going in so many directions that she wasn’t expecting. “My _dad’s_ name is Alfred. He’s a pharmacist.”

If Stark was offended by her calling her stepdad her actual dad, he didn’t show it. Either way, Rebecca couldn’t help but feel triumphant at being able to say that. Dad had always been around, had loved her like she was his own. Stark had paid for her braces.

“What does she teach?” He continued.

“Journalism and Yearbook. They’re electives.”

Stark thought for a moment, then spoke again. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Rebecca shrugged, tugging on her hair. “Don’t know yet. Wanted to be an inventor when I was younger, but I’m not exactly smart enough for that.”

Just then, she heard the rumble of the family minivan pulling up the driveway, followed by the groaning of the garage door opening. Rebecca nearly collapsed in relief. Mom was home; she’d know what to do.

“That’d be my Mom,” she said out loud. “She’ll want to talk to you.”

“Of course she will,” Stark replied, straightening his jacket. “I look good, don’t I?”

Rebecca shot him a very flat, very unimpressed look, and Stark winced.

“Sheesh, you’re as bad as Pep….”

“You’re the one who showed up unannounced at my house.” Who was Pep?

“Eh, got me on that one.”

The garage door swung open with a _clack_ , and a moment later Mom entered the room, setting down her purse on the table and striding over to them. She shared a lot of her features with Rebecca, sporting curly brown hair that was a shade lighter than hers, which fell around her shoulders in ringlets. She didn’t look very happy, though, and Stark smiled nervously as Sophia Mohren shot him her deadliest look, the kind Rebecca herself had been on the receiving end of once, when she’d broken her mother’s glasses on accident.

Stark stood, holding out a hand. Mom stared at him, unimpressed, and made no move to take it. Rebecca kept her focus strictly on the spot where Stark had been sitting.

“It’s been a long time, Mr. Stark,” Mom began slowly, her voice cool and low. Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca caught Stark lowering his hand. “What brings you to my home?”

“I-I’ve been thinking a bit, about you two,” Stark replied, stumbling with his words a bit. “Had some eye-opening experiences lately. Figured I ought to check in.”

“Have something to do about you being reported as dead for days on end, or when you mysteriously reappeared to save the President?”

Stark stuck his hands in his pocket and blew out a large puff of air. “You want me to be honest? The former.”

Rebecca finally drew up enough courage to look directly at her parents just as her mom’s expression seemed to soften. She sighed, walking over to Rebecca and brushing a hand on her shoulder before sitting next to her. Stark reclaimed the armchair. 

“Alright, then,” Mom said, crossing her arms. “You have our attention. Tell me what kind of relationship you want with my daughter.”


End file.
